


Lovers, to Bed.

by ShadyQuiet



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Midsummer Night's Dream - Shakespeare, Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: ...NormalHuman!Bond, Dubious Consent, Fae!Q, Here the plants have feelings, Inspired by Midsummer Night's Dream; Shakespeare, Love, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Satyr!Silva, Spells & Enchantments, The minions are Q's Faerie Court, They're a little in love with their King
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 12:56:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3570461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadyQuiet/pseuds/ShadyQuiet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on <i>Midsummer Night's Dream</i>, inspired by the storyline of Oberon and Titania, but with many adaptations.</p>
<p>Silva has the woodlands captured in winter at his whim, but this alone is not enough, he intends to make the Fae King Q his consort no matter the method. Q intends nothing of the sort, seeking only to break Silva's hold on the forest with the help of his Faeries, though he may not have a choice.<br/>Bond rather tampers with the Satyr's plans, though in his defence, he had no notion of them. He's not arguing though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lovers, to Bed.

**Author's Note:**

> Last summer I saw a brilliant production of _Midsummer Night's Dream_ with David Walliams playing Bottom, and got inspired.  
>  This has been half finished for a while, but I finally polished it off! Using the different style of writing was fun, but quite a challenge to keep, especially in Bond's POV. I swear the man does not think lyrically enough ;D
> 
> Also, be warned, there is some NSFW ahead...

The seasons were obnoxiously out of sync. Well, of course, that would be because Silva was behind it.

And it was popular Faerie knowledge that Silver himself was obnoxious.

For his own means, Silva neither fretted nor fettered himself with thoughts on his appraisal by the other nightly sprites. There was in fact, only one creature that held the sways of his attention.

The fae King; Q.

Moonlight skin and deep pool black hair, lips like blood, graceful as ripples. Q had rejected Silva’s summertime offering of wildflowers and rosehips, watching with a derision as the satyr King placed the spoils around him, striking the admirer by first the horns and then the up-turned tail when he tried to touch pale skin.

Not even the furious hiss and spit of curses as Silva had tried his luck again could turn him away from such beauty, though the stamping feet and wild cries of the fae King’s enraged faeries forced him to turn away.

He would have the little beauty for himself. He watched, even now, as Q danced in the moonbeams, his kin fawning around him as the fauns fawned around Silva.

Irritable, perky little things. They were nothing so complex as the fae King, with his tumbling words like a stream and eyes glimmering all the shimmered colours of the night even as they looked on Silva with distaste. Yes but he was delicious for it.

The tempting, the challenge, the drawing of this beauty to him… It would surpass all those hapless maidens he drew from the villages to his bed and sent home with more of his own.

Q took no lovers, was loved by his Faeries, writhing around him and stroking with their clever hands all over each others’ skins.

To watch was no longer enough. To bait was no longer worth the chase. No, to catch his prize he would have to use all the cunning of his own mind. It would be cleverness that caught the King.

And so Silva hastened and galloped on his goat legs to the depths of the forests where the caves dwelled, deep and dark. It took till nearly moon-down to retrieve what he desired.

A dew collected in the cup of a violet flower, that would inspire love in the eyes of the implanted with whatever creature graced the enchanted’s sight next.

With a chuckle swallowed by the overhanging trees, Silva collected the dewdrops in their petalled sheath to him, and turned to return to where the fae King slept.

Dawn had risen fresh and rosy fingered before he could reach his Q, no doubt now concealed with all his magic into the rocks or the pools or the trees.

He could linger. For this he would wait.

This night, he would play his flute to pipe the faeries collected to sleep, and then lay the dew upon the fae’s eyes and wait to wake him where he slept.

 

~00Q00~

 

“Here my Faeries, here.” The loyal creatures turned to their king, shrouding around him eagerly with care and caresses. “Let me weave about your heads moon daisy circlets, to help you on your work tonight.”

There was much to be done, winter was persisting despite Q’s best efforts, and this small patch of spring flowers he hoped to spread tonight with the help of his kin.

“Rosehip, you first, here to me.” He caught her wild rivulets of hair and bound them feathered and free with the white blooms. “Go now, one by one, and do not return here till your task is done.” He commanded, dreamily as he focused on Mustard Seed’s own coronation of Spring. There was a certain rhyme and rhythm to the power of words, if one chose to know how to wield them.

As ordered his kin scampered and pranced off with gleeful leaps and bounds, bid to spread the beginnings of spring until full moonrise.

Q sat in the glade and sang a little at the moon, rising to sway and dance when the wind called him and drifted down to thaw a pond frozen by Silva’s cruel whim. The gentlest touch of his fingers eased the ice back and rose the water to waking, rippling gently towards his pale fingers in welcome.

Trapped in ourselves since last three moons we were. The water lapped in melancholy, grateful yet childlike in its desire to be soothed.

“Poor loves, you may be free now, every thought of your own gives you warmth enough to forbid the frost put upon you.” Q commanded, flicking long fingers out and over the flat surface. Droplets flew over the pond and landed to ripple his whim across and throughout the water till even the grass and flowers around it’s edge began to green and thaw with warmth.

Idly the fae King watched his captured forest waking around the pond, around his feet where they drew comfort and warmth from his magic. A sickened frown marred delicate features as thoughts of Silva’s wickedness curled within his bright mind. The satyr was repulsive. In his nature, his behaviour towards the village maidens, and his attempts to court Q. He would not be enchanted by a being that sort his corruption and enslavement, binding Fae magic to the will of an impetuous goat.

Two springs ago before Q’s crowning, the satyr King had stomped down a lightning strike on the eastern woods and set it alight simply because he could no longer abide the besotted birds. The old fae King, a gentle and genteel faerie, had lost his life in the blaze, fast asleep after a night spent encouraging out the slumbering fauna only to have them demise alongside him. Q had been furious enough to whip the westerly winds to and fro until a tempest drowned out the fire, and thus became the new King.

Now he was once again faced with the Satyr’s insatiable wrath. This eternal winter abhorring to behold, but without the threat of violence that would be so very risky Q could only attempt to undermine the Goat whilst he remained egotistically oblivious. Already half the forest was waking.

The waking was exhausting however, and the sound of the wind through the leaves was particularly melodious this night, luring Q into laying his head upon a deep mossy bank and trailing a hand in the water for fish-kisses as he slept.

 

~00Q00~

Everything had occurred to perfection. Silva smirked with joyous deviation as he stalked closer to his soon-to-be-prize on cloven hooves. In sleep Q was a warm caress to behold; pure and untarnished, fey and ethereal, covered by nought but the adoring flowers and leaves leaning to save his modesty.

Soon, there would be no need when Silva took the King for his Consort.

With the delicacy and refined patience of one who knew a greater prize was soon to come, Silva brushed the bud of the flower over his to-be fae lover’s closed eyelids, muttering as he did the words of a learned enchantment.

Work done, Silva rose and flickered a long goatine ear towards the thickening forest. His fauns were calling, baying into the night about huntsmen and horrors and hideous humans. The fate of counselling his quivering kin was one Silva accepted with a weary roll of eye. With such important work to be done, he could not risk the woods being riled tonight, and tempt the protective Faeries back to their King too quickly.

 

~00Q00~

 

It had not been James Bond’s intention to wander so deep into the woods, but he had had to avoid a hunting party of the Queen’s men. After suffering such staggering a betrayal from her own gilded hand, her once faithful knight had no more desire to return to the kingdom than a prisoner to his gaoler and cell.

Thus deep into the gilded forest he was driven, further than any man would dare to delve lest they become prey to some wicked thing.

And so stumbling, exhausted, and still wounded shoulder aching, the knight came upon the glade.

Under pale moonlight glimmered a velvet-sheened pond, and beyond that…

Frowning, wary of illusions and trickery, Bond crept closer, drawing his sword as he went.

The figure resting upon the moss was beautiful beyond words his tongue could capture. Whorls of silken hair artless yet ideal over sharply featured face, twin dark fans of lashes and rouge lips as if kissed by the rose or bloodied blade, or both. There was something wickedly untamed in the audacity of such a nude body so openly draped over moss and flora, graceful limbs trailing into the cool pool and uncaring of his bareness.

Not a wisp of clothing covered the fey thing, protected only by the caringly demure lean of flowers, not even hair graced the pale body save for on the head.

Like no man Bond had ever seen.

No, not a man at all; a Faerie.

Curiosity and caution warred, wary of curses or cruel play; Bond rested the sharp blade carefully on the elegant stretch of bared neck.

The cold steel jolted wakefulness into opening eyes. Bond found himself caught in moonlight-upon fern irises.

Such eyes locked onto his with such wonderment and enchanted joy lingering there, in the slow upturn of lips, that it stayed his hand.

“Oh, my dear heart, where have you sprung from?” Murmured the prone fae, and Bond could no sooner move as fly when a pale hand drew out of the water and up to cup his cheek, eloquent fingers traced and chilled his lips with a wet touch.

Never one to be cowed by situations beyond the ritualised norm, the knight began to smirk as he gazed upon the supine figure. So clearly transfixed by some sway of the senses that it realised not how close the blade came to cutting his throat not moments before.

“I’m afraid you must have me mistaken, fair one.” For truly, this being was indeed beyond fair, and saying anything otherwise would be not only a disservice, but also worse a tempt of fate, if the being was near as dangerous as Bond believed him to be.

“Not so,” The Faerie countered, a beam gracing his lips and lighting up an already radiant face in delight and adoration. Two hands now came to frame the man’s face, thumbs caressing gently and smile soft, endearing. Bond drew away his sword entirely and sheathed it, beside him the Fae sat up, head cocked towards a shoulder and smiling starlight.

“Tell me your name, dear heart?” Came the request, soft and curious, eyes twinkling. By comparison the knight felt gruff and rough skinned; hewed of rock and grim hardship next to this wondrous rapture.

“Tell me yours, pet.” A dazzling beam of delight crinkled emerald eyes at his endearment.

“Q.” Lyrical and as if dew-dropped through the clear night, James’ heart was stolen as he stretched out a hand in greeting.

“Bond, James Bond.” He smiled back, bemused, and the movement widened as the creature took his hand and brought it to dark and lethal lips, kissing broken knuckles no rougher than a kitten, but with a half wicked gleam in those eyes.

Contemplatively, Q pulled his head back fractionally, cocking it to better appraise his knight, keeping hold of the man’s hand.

“Will you come to bed with me, Bond, James Bond?” With only the words spoken in that melodious voice blood pooled south. The enthralled affection sunk straight to his soul. Love, for him, impossibly smitten was the creature that held his hand tamely as a child. Yet the wildness lurking beneath held the man’s mind.

“Is that what you desire?” A proud inclination of the head met his teasing words.

“I am the Faerie king, and I shall want what I like.” The petulant response garnered an incredulous huff of laughter.

“Are you not too young and handsome to bear such a heavy title?” In a start the fae was kneeling, grinning impossible evils and delights as hands slowly found James’ shoulders and squeezed.

“I am anything but, and so much more besides, and no words were ever truer spoken.” Unconscious of the movement, the knight’s hands sought the pale slip of waist, rough fingers sliding over soft, untarnished skin, shockwaves of sensation shivering up his arms as if cast under some spell.

His touch turned the creature into a mad thing; weaving into his lap and arching into his body, both their chests stuttering with breath as those cool hands came to clasp James’ strong neck, lips barely brushing as they shared air.

Flinted green dawn eyes met startling blue as large hands daringly slipped up the nude body to pull it closer. The Faerie shivered and shuddered into him at the touch, head falling to rest on board shoulder, breath shuttering in ecstasy against the man’s neck.

“Lay with me.” James brought his mouth to the curve of ear to reply, hushed by the enchanted silence of the glade.

“Yes.”

Flurries of faeries as of yet unseen descended upon them and caressed both King and shocked knight up a small rise to a magpie nest of flora and thieved human silk.

“Bring my lover honey wine, and your sweetest songs.” Q commanded as he twined closer to the firm body beneath him. James’ arms sought wriggling bareness as his mind confused over the strange twist of fate this night had taken.

Against him Q was smooth and delighting in the knight’s ruggedness, fingers brushing aside metal and leather to scratch skin and hair and scars alike, mouth treasuring James’ form in a way no woman ever had, no man ever had, no human. How this impossible creature had fallen upon him was an utter mystery, but the he wasn’t one to ignore or pass up such obvious affections and beauty.

And quite besides, Q was doting on him. Feeding trickles of honeyed wine and stroking over the aching wound in his shoulder till it hurt no longer, watching him with love whilst he did no more than consume berries brought by the attentive and tactile minions of his new lover.

His Fae was enchanting, and utterly enamoured whenever James showed the slightest of affections, a berry between dark lips, increasingly bold caresses to pale skin.

The King’s faeries had their hands everywhere as James’ own braved slipping to thumb over the bud of blushed nipple and Q’s voice shuttered in a wanton moan. Startled as he was by the pairs of hands manhandling him out of his clothes faster than he could undress himself, the knight was powerless to disagree.

Between arms and flesh of all colours the man’s breath left him as he witnessed Q arching back, pale skin stretched in the stark moonlight as yet more attendants drew apart deer-long legs and revealed those most private of places. Almost unaware of his own increasing bareness James looked on enraptured as hands coaxed over reddening shaft and the pale globes beneath. Most enticingly fingers even dared to spread that perfect bottom and delve with nectar into the dusky furl of an opening.

Breath caught and mouth dry at the sound of Q’s needy cries, James could hold himself back no longer, what man could, with such a sight?

Scattering his attending faeries Bond pounced with a growl on their king.

“Oi, paws off!” He commanded them jovially and the fey thing beneath him laughed with the glee of a bird in flight, wrapping long limbs around the broad shoulders pinning him to the softened nest of eager flowers below.

“Sing for us, my Faeries.” Q chortled to the hovering creatures. “And you, dear heart, come and love me.” The wicked upturn of sly lips welcomed Bond’s tongue as he claimed them firmly, delving within as his rough hands stroked down the expanse of squirming body. He ached to be within, to consume this creature who had captured his attentions so, to leave him without want of ever feeling any hands but James’ on his skin again.

Even a host of faeries would not please his Q so much, the knight decided, curling one hand under the dip of knee and pushing one pale leg high into the air. His groin throbbed with desire and long hands clutched him tighter when his mouth left swollen lips to bite hungrily on supplicant neck.

“James!” With a curse to Gods he cared little about in the face of such submitting perfection James gripped his prize hard only to feel the return of many hands on him. Reading some silent signal from their master the faeries descended with a rising chorus of bird-like tones and ghosted hands down James’ back, some held him tight where he throbbed and dripped in excitement for Q, leading the man to bark in frustration like a tied dog.

Until those same caressing hands were also pulling around Q, spreading his writhing form yet wider and guiding James within, breaching with the swollen head of his desire and sharp cries from both him and Q. Torn between watching his lover’s head tip back, overcome, and watching himself stretch the impossible, heated and dew-covered opening, James neglected to notice minx-like faerie hands holding him lower until with committed strength his hips were pushed forwards and he was forced deep within the body of their held-down master.

Sheathed to his hilt in the wet clamp of heat James reconsidered his notion on the faeries’ continuing involvement briefly before leaning down to cover his consumed lover with his weight and set-to at a pace that pleasured the king into desperate cries.

Around them the Fareies came and went and danced and sang as the two forms of the knight and the Fae merged in the darkness.

~00Q00~

Q knew not from whence his knight had come that moonrise, but held onto the earth-strong body with everything he possessed as James took him deep and fast in a way his Faeries’ fingers never had. Magic twined around them in the air as Q’s heart opened to the man, encasing him in the protection of the forest as sure as his own body encased the man’s root within him.

His heart soared with the moon at each whispered hush of compliment or devilish promise on his skin, and oh when the man bit him, and plunged so deep inside him Q thought he might remain there forever, all thickness and strength and heat consuming him, the fae felt himself come undone around the man.

James’ deep, beautiful voice, so rough like an untrained cub howled into the night as he released himself, warm and wet and deep inside Q with the fae’s own thighs clamped tight around that scarred waist to hold him tight.

The stars fluttered with his heart and eyelashes as his body calmed, bound in desire to this gorgeous creature. The leaves around them had grown tall with their passion, the flowers thick and over their heads a winter-wizened apple tree bloomed heavy with ready to drop fruit.

“However did I find you?” James wondered so sweetly as he withdrew himself from where he now belonged within the fae. Q caught his lover’s amazed blue-as-sky eyes widening on the apple tree and felt his heart swell with pride.

“You didn’t, I found you.” Q corrected smugly, wriggling as he felt the trickle of seed leak out from between his buttocks like an over-full flower. Amusement lit those bright eyes and as their faeries settled down around them in sleepy lumps strong, coarse arms hauled the pliant King’s body close enough that they lay nose to nose beside each other. His long fingers reached out to dance over skin, gently skimming away tight flesh under scars and replacing it with new health, unbeknownst to his lover as the man chastised him.

“Now that’s a lie, my pet. I must have addled your mind just now.” Q smiled as he was kissed slow and languid, possessed easily by the strength of hold this man had over his heart.

“Only with the brightest of stars my dear heart. And I command you must do so again at every opportunity until I see nothing but.” Against his lips rough one’s chuckled and James’ eyes fell warm on his.

“With pleasure, my King.”

~00Q00~

Frightening away the Queen’s hunting party would have been amusing on any other night, but tonight Silva had more important conquests to attend to. He leapt high and hurriedly over the forest floor, already before entering the Fae King’s glade he unwrapped his flute to twiddle out the tune all faeries fell asleep to.

The glade before him was not empty as he had hoped. Q no longer draped by the pool and was instead surrounded again by his besotted faeries. Silva stamped once to curse his luck and withdrew the nastily sharp dagger from his belt quickly.

No doubt one of these faeries now held the favour of their King. Mindless little creatures that owned no right to such. Silva would be done with this quickly. The spell could be recast on another night; he would break it for now. One cut to the heart would still Q’s love. His Consort to be would survive such a wound. The faerie he loved would not.

Slyness curved the smile at his mouth and Silva’s tail twitched with anticipation as he considered yet further. Q would in fact be easy to enchant and enrapture whilst healing from such a wound, he would have the Fae writhing upon his desire before he was even recovered, and it would taste all the sweeter for having him helpless. Yes, a quite agreeable outcome indeed.

Emboldened the satyr stepped forward on cloven hooves and over the sleeping faeries until he stood over the King, leaking musk in his excitement as he raised the dagger high.

~00Q00~

Q may not have such needs, Bond mused as he refastened his trousers after relieving himself. Smiling the man thought of just how much there was to learn about each other. And in such an enchanted place too, the forest seemed alive since laying with the Fae in a way it hadn’t before.

James had left his lover entangled safely with his tactile faeries as he departed. They all seemed as if dead after the night’s activities and the man found himself rather smug at the thought.

Returning to the peaceful glade however, something amiss tingled his skin. The grass stems were cowering towards his feet and the stench in the air of rank animal had no place within Q’s flowered grove.

Such rage gripped him as he snuck from behind a tree to find a heinous monster standing amidst the slumbering faeries, over his Q with a dagger raised, that James drew a small dagger of his own from his belt without hesitation.

How dare such a creature step over his Q in threat!

The dagger flashed through the moonlight quiet in a furious fear and James watched with satisfaction as the creature convulsed around it’s point with a cry as the blade struck true.

It gurgled as it fell, dead to the floor with it’s spine severed and rolled down the small hill away from the vulnerable faeries in their nest. James sneered at the felled beast as he regarded it closer. The sort of monster that lured village maidens away from their fathers and left them with repulsive disfigured goat babes in their bellies that demanded either milk or drowning before they wrought havoc of their own. He wasn’t sorry to have saved Q from its heathen desires.

Not giving it another thought, and thinking he might parade his kill before Q in the morning as a token of his love, James strolled back up the hillock and clambered over the knotted limbs of the many bodies till he could sink down next to the King.

The fae curled close to James even in his slumber and with a hum of content the man placed a kiss to his delicate brow. Determined to never be parted from his enchanting love as long as they lived.

 

Fin.

**Author's Note:**

> Shakespeare is by no means my forte, but I hope you enjoyed! This also features some favourite lines from other great works, like _The Odyssey_ , and if anyone can recognise it, I may have to marry you.
> 
> Thank you for reading, comments, kudos and critique appreciated :)


End file.
